Counting on the Cowboy Read online

  All she wanted to do was hug him. The parentless child he’d been. And the hurting man he was now. Instead, she rolled the sealant on her piece of tin and said a prayer of comfort for him.

  “So since you made progress with your mom, are you still planning to leave?”

  “Guess you heard about the new hire too. The guy didn’t know a pipe wrench from a crescent.”

  “A common mistake. They both have those adjusty things.” She tried to keep it cool, as if the new hire had no effect on her. That it didn’t matter one iota if Brock stayed or left.

  “Adjusty things, huh?” He grinned. “Anyway, turns out he had experience in other areas Chase was looking to hire for.”

  The combo of his knee-jolting smile and her own relief clogged her brain. She didn’t hear exactly what the new hire’s job description entailed. Didn’t care. “So, you’re staying?”

  “For the time being.”

  The most beautiful words she’d heard. In weeks. A reprieve. Their time together would still come to an end. But not yet at least.

  * * *

  Surrounded by freshly painted sage green walls and crib parts, Devree peered at the directions.

  “Need some help?” Brock leaned in the doorway.

  “Why does it have to be so confusing?”

  “It makes it a challenge.” He settled beside her, his knee almost touching hers, took the instructions from her and focused on them.

  After a few minutes, he sorted the pieces into neat stacks. A bit more reading and he picked up two pieces, fit them together, then screwed them in place. “What about kids?” He looked up at her.

  “What about them?”

  “Ever picture yourself having any?”

  “I’ve always wanted a couple.” Her heart sank a little at the admission as she’d pretty much given up on that dream.

  “How do you reckon that can happen if a relationship isn’t in your plan?”

  “So are you a relationship expert?”

  “Hardly.” He assembled two more pieces. “After my dad died—my family was splintered. Since then, I’ve always wanted a family of my own. A do-over—the chance to get it right.”

  “Any progress on that?”

  “Not so far.” A harsh laugh escaped him. “I fell hard once, even got engaged.”

  So he did have experience in the prospective groom department. Was he still hung up on his ex-fiancée? “What happened?”

  He joined another piece of the crib in place. “I worked with her father. He and I didn’t agree on some of his business practices, so I got out. She took his side in the matter. Chose her dad and to live in Austin over me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m over it. For the most part. What about you?”

  She blew out a big breath.

  “I’m not buying that it’s all because of the country’s divorce rate. You mentioned there was a guy who broke things off with you.”

  Her gaze settled on the floor. “That’s not exactly accurate.”

  “Care to share?”

  “I’ve never talked about it with anyone.”

  “Not even Landry?”

  “It was too fresh at first and by the time I wanted to dump on her, her doctor couldn’t detect her first baby’s heartbeat and she was rushed to delivery. But it was too late.” She swallowed the knot in her throat. “After that, my disastrous dating saga was trivial.”

  “But it still hurt you. Come on, I told you my tale of woe. See if you can top me.”

  “Oh, but I can.” Her tone turned bitter, as she fiddled with a pack of screws. “I had a phone consultation with a bride-to-be. She hired me and we met to talk about the wedding. When I walked in, she was sitting with...with my boyfriend. He was the groom.”

  Brock let out a long, slow whistle, set down the pieces of the crib he’d assembled.

  “I was so stupid.”

  “No. He was a jerk. Did you tell the bride?”

  She scoffed. “I didn’t have to. He took one look at me and got all weird. She knew something was up and asked me if I knew him.”

  “It sounds like one of those soap operas my eighth foster mom used to watch when I was a kid.”

  How many foster families had he had? “I apologized and told her that after rechecking my schedule, I’d overbooked myself and couldn’t do their wedding. Before I could escape, she got in his face, demanded to know what was going on between him and the wedding planner. I hightailed it out of there before it got any more heated. Needless to say, they never made it to the altar.”

  Why had she just dumped all that on him? A guy she’d known only a matter of weeks.

  “I don’t understand. Why would he do such a thing?”

  She shrugged, tried to keep her tone matter-of-fact. “Apparently, he really liked me, but she was from a wealthy family. He thought he could have his cake and eat it too. Didn’t work out for him at all.”

  The whole thing with Randall had been embarrassing, but she hadn’t loved him. Her boyfriend drama paled in comparison to his trauma with his mother.

  “You win.”

  Laughter bubbled up and escaped from her in a high-pitched giggle. And she couldn’t seem to stop. It was such a relief to talk about it after all this time. Especially since Brock hadn’t judged her for being naive and too trusting. Finally, she got a reign on her hilarity, clamped her mouth shut.

  “I’m sorry.” His hand covered hers. “You deserve better.”

  “Thanks. You do too.”

  “At least I’m willing to keep trying.” Green eyes pulled at her. He picked up two large constructed pieces of the crib, fit them together and screwed them in place.

  She scooted over a bit, put some space between them. Even though they’d bonded over their hurts, they had nothing in common. He was as country as she was city. There was no other way for it to go. They’d end up parting ways.

  In the meantime, they needed to remain on separate paths.

  No matter how appealing Brock McBride was. No matter how perfect his kiss. No matter how the neglected child inside him tugged at her.

  Chapter Twelve

  “I promise, there are absolutely no fumes,” Devree whispered to Chase, even though Landry was sound asleep in the back seat. Her sister had had to go into the hospital after experiencing some contractions, but it had been a false alarm.

  Still, Devree and Brock had picked up the pace on finishing up Landry and Chase’s home. Which they would move into soon if Chase could just trust her.

  “I had Becca come smell and you know what a good nose she has.”

  “I don’t want to drive her over there, get her hopes up and the smell still be strong—affect her in some negative way. Let’s just wait until Monday like we planned.”

  “It’s been four days since the painters were here. Trust me, the house is ready and don’t you think she’ll rest and relax better here?” Devree glanced back at her sister. “She’s sound asleep. I’ll stay in the car with her while you go look around. If she wakes up, I’ll tell her you had to check on something. If you’re not convinced, we’ll go back to Granny’s old room at the ranch lickety-split and wait it out a few more days.”

  “All right.” Chase turned into the drive, continued past the ranch house, down the winding road to his and Landry’s dream home.

  It really was lovely, she thought as they neared the grove of live oaks where the driveway disappeared. A few more yards of woods, shaded with a clearing around the house. Log on the outside, drywall on the interior walls. Farmhouse and rustic decor. A perfect mixture of her sister and the man she loved.

  Devree glanced back at Landry as Chase parked, quietly opened his truck door, got out and pushed it to. Landry didn’t stir.

  Chase disappeared inside. Minutes ticked past. And she started to worry. It wasn�
��t imperative that Landry move in right away. But it sure would help her outlook. She’d rest better without dude ranch guests around and Chase had relinquished his duties until the baby was born. However, he was so overcautious. If he detected the slightest hint of paint fumes, he’d nix the whole idea.

  The front door opened and Chase came out. As Devree held her breath, he gave her a thumbs-up. Her smile spread from ear to ear.

  He opened the back door, tried to rouse Landry. “Sweetheart, we’re home.”

  Landry opened her eyes for a second as Devree got out.

  “It’s time to move into the new house.” Chase kissed Landry’s cheek. “Want to sleep in our new bedroom tonight?”

  Landry’s eyes opened again. She looked around and her mouth formed a small o.

  “All ready to move in.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep, scoot over here so I can carry you across the threshold.”

  Landry sat up, gingerly moved over to the edge of the seat and Chase scooped her up.

  “Get a picture, Devree.” Landry beamed over her husband’s shoulder.

  Devree dug her phone out, snapped several pictures.

  “You did this, didn’t you?” Landry wiped a tear.

  “Along with Brock, a whole carpentry crew and every ranch hand on the place. Every stick of furniture, every picture, every doodad should be right where you wanted it.”

  “You’re the best sister ever.”

  “Right back at ya.”

  Chase opened the door and Devree snapped one final shot. “I’ll text them to you.”

  “Aren’t you coming in?” Chase turned back to face her.

  “She needs to rest and y’all don’t need me hanging around. I’ll stop in tomorrow.”

  Landry blew her a kiss and the door closed.

  Oh, to have a love like that. A man so tender and caring. So completely devoted.

  “Psst.”

  With a confused frown, Devree turned around.

  Brock leaned out from behind a tree. “I wanted to see her face.”

  “She was thrilled.”

  “I noticed.” He held his hand up for a high five.

  Sparks flew at the impact of her palm against his.

  “Want a ride back to the ranch house? I parked on the other side of the grove there.” His gaze dropped to her feet. “I figured you’d have your usual footwear on. Not good for a trek that far.”

  Thoughtful and caring. “Sure.”

  She didn’t need a man like Chase. She needed Brock.

  But from all indications, he’d never leave his beloved countryside...not even for her.

  * * *

  Brock rang the bell of the new house, hoping not to disturb Landry. But his boss had summoned him here.

  The door swung open revealing a tired-looking Chase. “Just the guy I needed to see. It’s Saturday, May 12.”

  Brock frowned, searching for the significance. The day before... “Do you need me to pick up a Mother’s Day gift for your mom or Landry?”

  “No. I’m on top of that.” Chase waved him inside. “But Mom called and reminded me the annual Medina River cleanup is today. With everything going on, I forgot all about it. She and Dad volunteered to provide the fixings and sides for the barbecue. Can you help them set up and serve?”

  “Sure. What time?”

  “They serve from five to seven. Probably set up at four.”

  “Can I get in on the cleanup too?”

  “That would be great. Landry and I usually volunteer, so you and Devree can fill our spot. She’s already here. I’d arranged for her to stay with Landry, while I went. But the other day’s contractions convinced me to bail.”

  Brock almost swallowed his tongue. A tug-of-war raged inside him. The longing lodged in his heart to spend the day with her while his brain said to run while he still could. He needed to avoid her. Keep his heart safe from her charms.

  Chase rushed into the living room. “Devree, I don’t mean to chase you off, but the cleanup starts soon.”

  “I’m going, I’m going.” She stood, noticed Brock, went still.

  “I’ll load the canoe.”

  “Wait! Canoe?” Devree trailed after Chase. “I don’t know how to canoe. Can’t I just walk along the shore and clean?”

  “Other people are doing that. Devree and I always take the canoe. But no worries, Brock is going with you. He knows how.”

  Her eyes went wide. Then met his. Obviously wishing she hadn’t agreed. Welcome to the club. The rational part of him didn’t want to spend the day with her any more than she wanted to hang with him.

  “You good with getting wet in what you’re wearing?” Chase asked.

  Brock considered his shorts, T-shirt and tennis shoes. Work clothes that could use a good dunking. “I’m good. I’ll help with the canoe.” He followed Chase into the garage where Devree’s storage trailer was parked inside.

  They tugged a long boat hauler to Brock’s truck and hitched it in place, then trekked back to the garage. Each of them grabbed an end of the canoe, lowered it off the wooden brackets on the wall. Brock backed his end out toward his truck.

  By the time it was loaded, sweat trickled down Brock’s back. Splashing around in the river would be welcomed. Just not with Devree.

  “Thanks for helping with this.” Chase turned back to the house.

  “No problem.” He headed for his truck just as Devree exited the front door.

  She scurried his way, climbed up in his cab. “Maybe I can catch a canoe with someone else.”

  He’d love to take her up on that. But... “I think since you’re inexperienced, we should stick together.” He started the engine, backed out of the drive, headed for the road. “You need to know a bit about canoeing before you hop in one.”

  “Like?”

  “The bow is the front end. The stern is the back.”

  “Why not just say front and back then?”

  Good question. “The person in the stern steers, so you’ll need to be in the bow. That way, all you’ll have to do is paddle. To keep the canoe straight and steady, each person will paddle on opposite sides of the boat. If you get tired, say switch and we’ll change sides.”

  “Sounds easy enough.”

  “If we come to a turn in the river or we drift too close to the shore, we’ll need to paddle on the same side for a little while.” He wouldn’t go into what to do if they turned sideways or hit the shore. No need to overload her. If he schooled her on the important stuff, the what-ifs wouldn’t happen.

  “Anything else?”

  “Don’t stand up once we’re out in the water. You’ll tip us over if you do. Can you swim?”

  “Yes.”

  “We’ll wear life vests, anyway.”

  “Got it.”

  They reached the river and he turned into the gravel lot and found a parking spot.

  Should be a fun day. Spending it with the one woman he could imagine spending the rest of his life with—but never would.

  * * *

  The canoe swayed beneath her feet as Devree stepped into it.

  “Crouch low, keep your weight centered and hold on to both sides until you get to the seat,” Brock instructed.

  “It keeps moving.”

  “I’ve got the canoe, it’s not going anywhere until I get in. You don’t have motion sickness, do you?”

  “No.” She inched to the front of the canoe—the bow, that is.

  “Good job, you’re almost there.”

  Finally, she settled on the seat, but kept her grip on the sides just in case.

  “Perfect. Now just sit still while I get in and push off. Remember what I told you about paddling?”

  “I start on the left.” She glanced around. A few other canoers gave her reassuring smiles. Was
she the only newbie?

  The canoe shifted with his weight and suddenly she was propelled forward. She held on white knuckled.

  “Paddle, Devree.”

  Oh, yeah, that. She stuck her oar in the water, pushed back with it, then up and repeat.

  “Lengthen your stroke a bit. Don’t pull up so quick.”

  She pushed back, kept her oar in the water longer.

  “That’s it. You look like a pro. Now, we’re clearing out trash and debris from last year’s flooding. Use your pinchers while I steer. Don’t worry about getting the big stuff. Someone with a bigger boat will handle that part. I may tell you to lean right or left to keep us steady.”

  This was getting more complicated as they went. Why had she agreed to do this again? There were plenty of people here—a convoy of canoes in front of them. Chase and Landry wouldn’t have been missed. There’d been no need for Brock and Devree to take their places. Unless it was a setup. Was Landry trying to matchmake again? Why, oh, why hadn’t Devree figured it out before she’d agreed to come?

  “See that bottle floating there? Can you get it? Don’t lean too much.”

  She eased her grabber into the water, nabbed the bottle, then pulled it in and dropped it into one of their trash bags.

  “Good job. Switch.”

  She moved her oar to the other side. Much easier since she was right-handed.

  She grabbed an aluminum can and several plastic utensils.

  “Lean right.”

  A big piece of something glistened to her right up ahead. They neared it and she jabbed her oar at it. Heavy. The boat dipped sideways a bit.

  “Leave it. I think it’s part of a car or something. One of the bigger boats will get it.”

  But the canoe was turning sideways.

  “Switch,” Brock instructed.

  The canoe righted itself into a straight line, but nearer the shore than they’d been.

  “Switch,” he shouted.

  She scrambled to follow his command, but movement in a branch too close to the boat caught her attention. Snake. She screamed, jumped up.

  “Devree, sit down!”

  The boat flipped, tossed her in the water, but her life vest kept her from going under. She swiped at her eyes, searched for the limb where she’d seen the snake and realized she was too close.